


Prelude To War

by Axelex12



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Leaving Home, Mild Smut, One Shot, Pre-War, Pre-World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth, Sharing a Bed, Slow Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28594449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axelex12/pseuds/Axelex12
Summary: A story of a brief moment of peace, before the inevitable plunge into bloodshed and fire.
Relationships: Female Night Elf | Elves/Male Worgen (Warcraft)
Kudos: 1





	Prelude To War

A chorus of boisterous cheers rang out, reaching her ears as she stepped forward, past the curtains and onto the small stage. The smell of rum, ale, mead, and other brews mixed with the smoke and fires of the kitchen further in the back. She looked down from her current position and smiled a small and tantalizing smile.

It was always as such on nights she danced. She loved it.

The stage was well lit, thanks to a combination of gnomish ingenuity and well placed coin. The light shone upon her brilliantly, illuminating her violet skin, giving her an ethereal, almost dazzling glow. Her hair, long flowing silver, sparkled as if the dwarves had mined it from the very mountains they dwelled in. And, the pure white, silk blindfold she had across her eyes, seemingly glowed as if they were in fact her own natural glowing orbs.

The loose sleeves of her silk-sheer dress seemed to swirl and flow from her form as she stood there, her arms across her breasts, palms holding her shoulders as if she were cold. The top of the bedleh dress she wore was as white as snow, with gold weaved into the stitching, and accented her ample bust. She wore sheer-white pantaloons that only showed off her shapely and defined legs, though did well in hiding her virtue. The golden bands at her wrists and ankles, with adorning sapphires etched into the metal, sparkled and dazzled with the light.

The thrum of the nearby band reverbed along the walls of the building, silencing the crowd.

The beat started slow, and she started to move with it. Her palms gliding along her nubile frame, as her hips and waist slowly swayed and bent. A voice, soft but heard amongst the patrons, began to sing in a language not heard in over ten millennia's. The beat was accompanied with string and wood instruments, and grew in tempo. And she in turn moved with the song, smooth yet swift.

Her palms slid down to her hips, before removing themselves to rise in the air. Her bare feet began to lift and glide along the wooden stage as her dance began. She raised one foot high into the air, before bending forward, giving her audience a smile and coquettish giggle.

Someone blew a whistle, eliciting some chuckles from the other patrons. Her smile grew wider, before she added a kiss to her routine, blowing it to the back, before twirling back into her dance.

Let them think she had been charmed, if only a little. She had a better reward awaiting her at home.

She allowed her ears to darken as a blush crept upon her cheeks as she thought of him. Even when he wasn't in the very room, he had a spell upon her. A nefarious and cruel spell that would surely ruin her. She was glad no one would ever be able to break it either.

She was in love.

She remembered everything about them both at that moment.

How they met; at the bar top of the club she was currently dancing for.

Their first outing; lazing in the mage quarter in the crisp and cool spring day.

Their first "kiss"; a small tender moment in a time he needed her as a friend and more.

Their first…intertwining; a wonderful, though cold, night shared in her bedroom.

Their vows; a hidden exchange of words and promises beneath a tree in Elwynn Forest, with only her dearest friend as their only witness.

She closed her eyes as a sigh escaped her lips. The song was ending soon.

At the height of its finale she leapt, her sleeves trailing and framing her figure as she seemingly hovered through the air. She landed softly, before spinning in time with the final notes. Finally, she dropped to her knees, her hands resting at her sides as she felt the curtains close in front of her. A boisterous chorus of applause and cheers filling the hall and reaching her ears as she stood, exiting the stage to let another girl prepare for their show.

She navigated the backstage with a soft smile on her face, dodging other girls and stage hands as she made her way to her and her friend's dressing room. Despite her blindfold, she could see just as clear as she could without. A trait she inherited from her late father. After reaching the door and moving inside, she moved toward her wardrobe, gathering her casual attire as she got ready to head home.

"Very good show tonight lass. Ye were positively glowing, as usual Tethy," a gruff voice called to her from the door.

Turning, Tethysra offered a warm and friendly smile to the stout dwarf at her room's entrance. He was neatly dressed in dark, rich browns and tans. His large and fuzzy red beard the only part of his face discernable despite the crinkles along his eyes, showing that he was smiling warmly in return.

"I'm glad you appreciated it Rorik." She looked to the bouquet of lilacs in his thick fingers. She smiled almost worriedly as she looked back up at him, "Another admirer?"

"Oh aye lass, but not for you this time. This 'ere is for yer partner, Estellyse." He motioned with his head to the other vanity in the room. He moved forward, a noticeable limp in his step as he moved.

She stood and helped him, taking the bouquet and placing it upon the vanity herself before turning to her boss and friend. "You shouldn't strain yourself so. No one denies your service or your valor. The doctor said that you're still not fully healed."

"Bah!" he huffed, moving to sit upon a stool he could reach before settling himself. "I'm not so withered an' weak that I cinnae' walk among me own bloody building," he grumbled loudly.

She looked at her good friend and employer with a sad smile. Sir Rorik Thundermar, a valiant and stalwart defender of The Alliance. A dwarf who stood at the front of the host and helped carve a path through Icecrown, defended Wyrmrest Temple with many others as Deathwing was brought down, and charged fearlessly and jovially into Orgrimmar itself to bring the tyrant Hellscream to justice, made humble by a stray explosion at the Black Gate when the Iron Horde invaded.

He healed enough to walk a few weeks later, but his left leg would never support him like it did before. But rather than be disheartened and downtrodden like many crippled warriors, he decided to continue serving his faction by giving the heroes and the soldiers a place to unwind from their long excursions, to celebrate in their victories, and to honor the fallen.

So he opened a club and bar. The Lion's Den. Or, The Den as many called it.

Some people who knew him personally asked him why he didn't just open up a brothel considering the shows he scheduled, and his answer was simple; "Now why in all the fel-blasted voids would I make a brothel?! How is anyone supposed to relax an' honor their brethren an' comrades when they're too busy trying to get their knob to work properly?" It made some strange bit a sense when he worded it that way.

The way he saw it, most men (and some women) tended to enjoy a good show to relax. A good number of the girls working at The Den didn't do anything risqué or even tantalizing. There was a pair of human twins that were talented singers, with songs so upbeat and peppy that most patrons joined in dance with each other. There were three gnome men that preformed a slapstick comedy with stranger and stranger contraptions each show, a personal favorite of Tethysra's. And even her dearest friend Estellyse, a draenei, preformed lovely and calming harp melodies, so soothing and relaxing that The Den was almost deathly quiet of all other noise when she played.

She moved back to her vanity and began removing her bands before reaching up to her blindfold, undoing the knot hidden in her hair and removing the cloth into a drawer. She looked at her reflection with both pride and a tiny bit of concern. Her skin was flawless and her face seemingly carved and shaped by Elune herself, with her silver hair framing her face beautifully. The only contrast being her eyes.

Those glowing amber eyes.

Tethysra Silvermane was a highborn elf. One of the last surviving members of her kind.

Other than those eyes of hers, she was the spitting image of a kal'dorei woman. With glowing, healthy violet skin. A long and nubile form. She was beautiful from the top of her silver head, to the bottom of her feet.

All but these eyes, she thought.

Letting out an internal sigh she turned back to her boss with a mischievous smile, "So, whose eye has our blue beauty caught this time?"

At this, Rorik chuckled deeply, "T'would seem she's caught the eye of that gold-headed human… eh…blast it what was his name?" he began to trail off, rubbing his beard before snapping his fingers together, "Geralt! That's it. That young buck Geralt Ronsell."

Tethysra giggled and looked at him incredulously, "The paladin boy?" Rorik nodded, still chuckling quietly, "He barely reaches past her chest…then again, maybe that's the very reason," she chuckled as an image of the boy nuzzling her friends chest came to mind, sending her into a small fit of giggling.

"And just what is so funny about Geralt I wonder?"

Both Rorik and she looked to the door, seeing Estellyse walk in, all the grace befitting her race in her steps.

Estellyse was a natural beauty, even amongst her own kind. Her dark blue hair framed her stunning face, with a length and volume that had most elven women envious. Her blue skin looked as smooth as silk and was reminiscent of a cloudless spring sky. She was more accustomed to wearing simpler clothing, though she did tend to wear more alluring clothing on whims. Such as today in which she was in a sea green dress that showed of her lovely form, with a bronze leaf design sewn into the top along her chest.

Tethysra smiled up at her dear friend. Estellyse was kind beyond words, with a soft voice, and an even softer smile. Estellyse and she had met shortly after the draenei had landed on Azeroth.

They had met in Stormwind in the winter, with a harsh windstorm blowing in from the sea. Tethrysra was walking briskly through the mage quarter, huddled around herself as she made her way to her small lodgings. She needed a small reprieve from the cold for a bit though, so she ducked into the nearest store she could find. To this day she couldn't remember the name of the place, only recalling that it was a tailor store. The owner looked at her with a bit of worry before she waved him off and gestured to the cold outside, to which he nodded and went back to his work.

After taking in a few breaths, she felt her body tingle and warm slowly, when another person came through the door. It was a draenei, a female, one of the newest races to join the Alliance. She was wearing a thick furred coat over much of her body, though her hooves were what gave her away. She walked right up to the owner of the tailor store.

"Pardon me sir, you wouldn't happen to know if there were any rooms or houses nearby I might stay for the night?"

The owner, a human male with raven hair, looked up at her and shook his head sadly. "Sorry miss. If you can't find room at the inn in the trade quarter, then I don't rightly know where you could."

A sigh had escaped the draenei as she nodded at the man. "I see. Thank you anyway sir. May the light guide you," she spoke before turning back to the door.

Tethysra watched her take two steps before speaking up, "I have room."

The draenei looked at her suddenly. "I own a small lodging here in this quarter. You're welcome to come share the night at the very least," Tethysra said. It actually surprised her how quickly she jumped at the opportunity to offer what she had. She did have a second mattress, though it was old.

"Thank you," the draenei said smiling warmly at the elven woman. "I feared I would have to sleep near a dwarven forge for the night."

They had both chuckled quietly before making their way towards the small house. From then onward, the two women had become friends. They lived, ate, worked, and laughed under the same roof for near a decade, sharing secrets and stories of their respective pasts.

Estellyse was an orphan, even among draenei, with no family name nor heirloom to help her find one. She was raised among the other orphans back on Draenor, when it was still whole, where she learned to sew dresses and craft gems. When she awoke on Azeroth, she still had those same skills and made her way to Stormwind to support herself, though only found enough work to help keep them afloat financially. She was introduced to the harp by Tethysra and took to it immediately, adding her own people's songs to the harp strings beautifully.

Estellyse was the first person to learn that Tethysra was highborn. She would hide her eyes behind a glamour, giving her an appearance of another night elven woman.

Tethysra was, like many of her kind, exceptional with the arcane arts. Though, she never really liked the magic her people tended to study. The same magic that lured the Legion to Azeroth all those millennia ago.

So, she focused more on the enchanting aspects of the arcane. She would weave spells into gems, armor, or weapons for the passing traveler or soldier for a price. Many adventurers tended to come to her for some basic enchantments, though some did tend to ask for somethings that were absurd even for highborn standards. Still, it helped pay for food and home so she didn't complain too much.

Tethysra loved to dance though. Whenever a festival would roll around, or the Darkmoon Faire came to the nearby Goldshire, she would be out dancing with Estellyse or in some circle with other dancing visitors. When she danced, she felt like she was flying and swimming all at once.

It was only a few years ago now that Rorik came to their door offering them a job at his club. He was limping carefully through the city picking up ingredients for a brew that he wanted to add to the menu, when he heard Estellyse playing her harp from the street. He was hooked and offered her the chance to play on a stage that very day, even offering Tethysra the same venue to dance once he learned she could. At first, both Estellyse and she were a little wary of the offer. They were being asked to preform and show off their looks and talents for a bunch of soldiers, some who probably hadn't seen nor touched a woman in a long time. Concerns were still there.

So, they gave him a condition. If he could promise that they could be paid upfront and make sure they were properly guarded at and around work, they would agree to give him and his job offer a chance. He agreed immediately, and it was the best decision the three of them had made in their lives. Estellyse made the outfits the preformers would wear for shows and on the floor, cutting down on Rorik's costs. Tethysra would dance and enchant the gems in every outfit with spells that would help draw attention to the performers without outright charming them. And, with the extra money he was saving, Rorik was able to convince the Stormwind court to add a few extra patrols around his establishment.

"We're not saying anything is wrong with him Estelle…just imagining you two giving each other a hug and seeing the difference in size," Tethysra spoke, trailing into a few giggles at the end.

Rorik let out a guffaw of a laugh at the image in his mind. Estellyse simply smiled and rolled her vibrant eyes at the two. "He's a sweet young man with a noble spirit. His height is not what I would fuss over," she said.

"Oh ho ho~. Is that a bit of defense I hear in yer voice lass?" Rorik teased. "You already gettin' sweet on the lad?"

Estellyse simply picked up the bouquet and turned to them both with a coy smile on her lips. "Well…he didn't start coming to The Den until after he and I shared a dinner after all."

Rorik let out a small whistle in surprised respect as Tethysra looked at her friend in pleasant surprise. "You two are courting already?" she asked. Estellyse smiled from behind her flowers, her cheeks a shade darker.

"Well, color me impressed lass. I dinnae' think you'd finally find a man who was worth the effort."

Estellyse just turned to the vanity and began applying her jewelry to her horns and head-tendrils, starting to get ready for her turn on the stage. "Truth be told, neither did I for a time there. Yet, I like Geralt. He's a sweet man like I said, and he doesn't boast or stick stiffly to those oaths of the order. He's a good man," she finished softly with a smile Tethysra knew too well.

"Well, I hope and wish you two all the fortune in this world Estelle," she spoke to her friend.

Estellyse looked to her friend in turn and nodded with that same smile, "Thank you, Tethy." She turned back to her vanity and went about applying her make-up slowly and carefully.

"Well," Rorik suddenly spoke up, hopping off the stool and hobbling carefully toward the door, "it's a good thing to hear yer liking the lad, but I gotta get back to the bar. Tethy, you can head home for the night if you want. Stay safe if you do," he chuckled suddenly, "Though ancestors help whatever poor gobber tries anything on you. That big monster you call a mate t'would surely rip them apart if they tried." Rorik continued chuckling as he walked out of the door.

Estellyse turned to her with a teasing smirk on her lips, "True. After all, men like him are very territorial."

Tethysra scoffed playfully before changing into her casual robe and bidding her dear friend a good night. She offered small waves to a few others as she made her way home, placing that old glamour on her eyes again. Highborn elves were now welcomed into the major cities again after Malfurion Stormrage had brought the last remaining survivors into kal'dorei society. But, old prejudices die surprisingly hard. An extra precaution, she reasoned herself.

She made her way past the cathedral district to the mage quarter. She and Estellyse no longer lived in that small house from years ago, now living separately, with Estellyse living in a cozy but warm home in the dwarven district. Tethysra made her way quietly to her home she shared with her mate and love.

Opening the door, she could hear snoring coming from the bedroom. It was pretty late, she noticed before stepping past the living area into their room.

And there he lay on his back, blanket draped over him, legs dangling over the edge, content and peaceful, Byron Fornhal. Even in their king sized bed, he took up a good two-thirds of the sleeping space, not that she'll ever complain. She liked cuddling up to his big fluffy body, treating him like a giant teddy bear.

Byron was a worgen from Gilneas. He and his father had survived the exodus of their country, losing their farm and home to the plague of Sylvanas Windrunner, the Banshee Queen. They didn't have anywhere to live for a while once the worgen were accepted into the Alliance, so Byron joined a mercenary guild. It helped that he was massive even for worgen standards, with thick muscles from past farm work. Most worgen stood just a few inches above her, though gave her no trouble of looking her in the eye. Byron stood a full head-and-a-half higher than her, beating most tauren she had seen in her life. When Rorik had called him a monster, he wasn't too far off.

While Byron was level-headed and quiet most of the time, the moment something or someone of his was threatened he became more akin to a wolf guarding his den, a habit he developed after Gilneas, she had always assumed.

They had met a little over two years ago, a couple months after The Lion's Den had grown in popularity. He had shown up at the den after hearing from his guild friends of an enchantress at the club, mistaking their words for an actual master of the enchanting arts, and not an alluring beauty. When he had walked inside, his very footfalls caused Rorik to gape at him for a small moment. Tethysra had been relaxing at the bar top for a bit, chatting with her boss, and had also gaped at the massive beast man. It didn't help that he was covered head to claw in full plate armor that looked like it was made from demon bones (which it kind of was technically).

"I heard you have an enchantress working here. May I speak with her?" he had growled out in such a deep voice that she could have sworn he was also part orc.

"I…believe you might be looking for me," she had spoken up, uncharacteristically quietly.

He turned to her and pulled his helm from his head, holding it in front of his chest, giving her a good look at what he looked like. His fur was as white as snow first off, with the bluest eye she had ever seen, like looking into a deep clear lake. His other eye was scarred viciously, letting onlookers believe it lost in a fight. His fur was long, though looked groomed neatly, or as neatly as a fighter could get it at least, with two braids hanging from his neck.

"My helmet used to allow me to breath beneath water. I and some comrades are planning to search the shores of the Broken Isles for survivors or bodies to return. Can you return the enchantment?" he growled out.

Slowly, and a little nervously, she took the heavy helm from his claws and lay it onto the countertop, before summoning a bit of her arcane power and tracing a single finger along the brow of the helm, leaving a glowing rune etched into the metal. He took the helmet carefully, placing it upon his head before fishing a few gold coins and placing them onto the counter top. "Thank you," he rumbled before turning toward the door and leaving.

It was only a few days later when he showed up again, asking for an enchantment on his gloves to help him climb up the sides of mountains. And again a few days later asking for her to reinforce the protective ward on his chest plate.

This would continue several times before finally, "My name is Byron," he would mumble as she worked on his gloves again. She was surprised for a second, for it seemed like he was trying not to draw attention to himself. He was shy!

This forced a small giggle from her lips before smiling at the big wolf, "I'm Tethysra, but please call me Tethy."

He would continue to come to The Den afterwards, sometimes to ask for more or new enchantments, see her dancing, and rarely to talk and listen with her and her friends.

One day, he came to see her show, bringing with him a small package that looked tiny in his clawed hand. She had, and still does, receive plenty of gifts from admirers, but had not previously received one from him.

It was a necklace. A simple silver chain with a small blue crystal shaped into a small star hanging from the chain.

She had received gifts of flowers, precious gems, rings, and all sorts of flowery letters from men who wanted her hand.

And yet, she couldn't stop staring at the gift with warmth in her chest. She liked it. Plain and simple. Looking into the box she saw a note that read, "For Tethy, the Enchanting Dancer." She felt her cheeks and ears darken as she read the note, a small and bubbly smile spreading across her cheeks.

After that, she approached him, wearing her new necklace, and asked him to follow her. He did so without a single word. They spent time with each other in the mage district, just walking and chatting and spending the time getting used to being alone with each other. He introduced her to his father, a kind old human whose sight was slowly going with his age and had trouble moving about the house they shared. She in turn showed him her lodgings she had moved into before reaching a small park and enjoying the quiet. She learned that he never liked showing his human form. When she had asked why he said, "Imagine a dream in which you wear a different face. When you wake up, you feel whole again. For a few of us Gilneans, it is like that. When we embraced our nature as worgen, our human skin suddenly felt wrong. So we forsook it."

She could only guess her understanding, but accepted his reasoning all the same.

She remembered, with mirth, the few evenings she had seen his protective side.

There was the night she went to meet him at his guild's building. She had just left The Den and went to meet up with Byron. After knocking and being greeted by a Night Elven male kindly, she was told to wait in the common area while he was fetched, which she did so courteously, before having a gnome begin to flirt with her. She was lucky the gnome was making some bad jokes, covering up the fact she was laughing at him. She was not so lucky when he tried getting a little more forward and bold. Tethysra tried to let him down kindly, but he wasn't listening. At least, he wasn't listening until he was hoisted up by a massive white clawed hand, carried outside, and tossed into the canal. She had looked at Byron surprisingly until he elaborated with, "The gnome, Fizzknock, is full of hot air. The water will cool him down well enough." She had laughed and accepted that answer well enough, thinking that it was a regular enough occurrence.

It wasn't until a patron at The Den started to follow her home one evening that she started to see it. The night elven male never really bothered her, just followed her eerily. Byron had been walking to see her again, when he came upon them. His lips had pulled back, revealing very sharp fangs before he sped past her, hoisting the elf high above his head and tossing him into the canal, before moving to walk beside her. When she enquired as to why, he remarked with, "He smelled wrong. The water will fix that."

Come to think of it, most of his ways of dealing with other men bothering her involved the water. Like that drunken human at The Den that was bothering not just her but seemingly every girl that worked that night. Byron just lifted him effortlessly, marched him out, and tossed him into the canal. Rorik thought it was "Bloody brilliant!"

Those months were both the most wonderful for the two lovers, and the saddest time of his life. His father had passed away in his sleep one evening. She stood beside Byron as they burned his father's lifeless body, letting the winds scatter the ashes. She had asked him days later, when he had seemed better with his grief, if he would move into her home with her. She had meant it in a way that she didn't want to see him alone at such a trying time. He had asked to stay with her forever.

She hesitated for a moment, though only because the suddenness of the question caught her off guard, before answering him yes and kissing the side of his furry muzzle again and again. Being a worgen, he couldn't pucker his lips like the other races. Instead he would nip and bite along her neck with a pleased rumble in his throat.

Two days later, and he had sold his house and moved in with Tethy and settled in. He had to lower his hunched head a bit to fit through the door, but seemingly found her home comfortable. She had grabbed him by his clawed hand and showed him the bedroom he would sleep in.

Her bedroom. With the one mattress.

That night they shared told them many things. He was gentle, but bold. She was a natural tease, but very submissive. They also learned that night that the mattress was two sizes too small and rectified that the very next day. He was still too big for the bed, length wise, but at least he could sleep in it comfortably now.

Tethysra moved to the dresser quietly, not wanting to wake him up from a long venture. She started to undress as quietly as she could, folding her robe neatly into the drawer. Quietly, she let out a yawn, stretching her arms over her head. It was warm night tonight so she would forgo a night dress. Instead she decided to crawl in bed next to her mate, clad in only her small clothes. Pulling up the sheet she would share with Byron, she nestled herself between his large arm and his fluffy side, resting her head on the crook of his shoulder. Sighing softly, she breathed in his smell, thanking him quietly that he had washed himself before going to bed.

She felt his arm move, his hand lifting slightly, before resting on her backside, his arm half-wrapped around her. She smiled once more before closing her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

She awoke the next morning to the sound of knocking at her door. Drowsily, she pried herself from her warm slumber. Grabbing a long but warm robe, she moved to the front door. The knocking was noticeable, but not loud or urgent. So, when she opened the door to see the guilds courier boy, a human boy who looked to be just growing out of his adolescence. She simply smiled and offered a friendly good morning.

"Sorry to bother you ma'am, but I have a message for Officer Byron from the guild master," he said as he handed her a parcel which she took carefully.

"Is it a summons? I ask only because Byron is sleeping still," she asked tiredly.

"It is ma'am, though it's not urgent. Just please make sure Officer Byron is at the guild hall before dusk. All of us members have to show. Good day to you miss."

Tethysra nodded once and gave the boy her thanks before slipping back into her home and locking the door.

She placed the letter on a nearby table, it wasn't hers to read after all, before removing her robe again and slipping back into bed with her mate. Being wide awake now, she chose to simply cuddle against him and watch him sleep.

The days are getting warm again, she thought, It'll be hard for him to sleep with that thick coat of fur. She decided then to take him to a barber sometime in the week.

Byron suddenly huffed and started, rousing himself from his slumber slowly. He lifted a clawed hand to his face and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

Tethysra grinned before she began to crawl atop his much larger form. She lay atop him, her head resting on her arms, which in turn rest on his chest, and kicked her feet in the air slowly, just staring at the man she had fallen so hard for.

Finally, he looked at her, the sleep finally having left him, and smiled a small, but warm smile. "Good morning," he mumbled.

"Good morning," she whispered in return, before leaning up to kiss him along his muzzle. A small sigh escaped her lips as he reached up to wrap his claws along her nubile form. She reached up, tangling her fingers in his thick mane of fur. She shivered as she felt his hand move to grab her backside, a small thrill running up her spine. She turned her head to him, though he only took that moment to nip at her neck playfully, eliciting some childish giggling from her. "Eager today?"

"I've been away weeks, and you're practically not wearing anything. Your fault," he growled into her neck. She giggled once again, before sliding her long legs around his waist, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders to tangle in his fur. He undid her breast strap easily enough, before tossing it over the bed. A deep growl escaped his throat, causing her to shiver in anticipation.

She giggled and winked at him cutely, before squealing as he flipped her over. The next few moments of their day was a blissful haze in her memory, with only the memories of his tongue and padded hands on her skin, and the fullness she felt with him inside her.

The day did call to them though, and Byron had a summons he couldn't ignore. So, after rousing themselves from their bed, and preparing some late breakfast, they went about any household chores and errands they needed.

The day they shared was a lucky one for her, with The Den being closed for the one day of the week. Tethy and Byron spent their day enjoying the company of each other, before making their way toward the guild base, located on the canals in the Trade Quarter of Stormwind.

The White Gryphons' headquarters came to view after a short walk. Originally, The White Gryphons was a company founded by former soldiers and Priests of the Alliance in the time of the first Horde invasion. Though, over time, the company was put to rest after the uneasy peace was brokered after Thrall took the mantle of Warchief. Recently however, the company was remade by an old and weathered veteran Paladin, Harold Lighne, to take up jobs and quests that The Alliance needed assistance with, with the late king Varian Wrynn's blessing.

Walking inside, they saw many, if not everyone, of the guilds members idling about and chatting away as they awaited their guild master. Tethy looked around and saw Fizzknock trying his luck with another lady, this one being an elf. Though not an elf Tethy had ever seen before. The young lady looked more akin to a High Elf of Quel'thalas, though her skin was unnaturally pale, giving the impression that she was an albino. But, her hair shook that presumption away considering it was as black as night. She also looked like she was none too pleased with the gnome's antics.

"Alright settle down you lot," called out a boisterous and grizzled voice. Tethy saw everyone quieting down as they turned toward the speaker, Harold, at the back of the main hall. He stood as tall and broad as most human men, clad in his blessed armor of his order. His hair had long ago turned white as snow, with his well-groomed beard matching in color. Tethy always assumed he was an angry person, considering the man never dropped that permanent scowl from his stoney face.

Though, she guessed it was probably necessary, being the new bearer of The Ashbringer.

Tirion Fordring, had passed in battle on the Broken Shore, and had in fact, in his final breath, named Harold as the new wielder of that divine blade. A task that Harold took very seriously.

"You all know by now that Byron, Rubye, and I joined with various members of both the Alliance and the Horde last week, in assaulting the Burning Throne."

Many members, and Tethy herself, looked around the room at the mentioned members, her eyes landing on the Archdruid Rubye Brightsong, with that glowing scythe on her back. Rubye, was probably the only member of The Gryphons that Tethy was envious of. Fate had seemed to smile on the Kal'dorei female. She was gorgeous, blessed with patience and grace, and chosen by Elune herself to wield the terrifying power of The Scythe of Elune. Rubye and Tethy had never met, though that didn't stop Tethy from having those feelings of envy from creeping into her, though now she shelved them and focused back to Byron.

She was beyond proud of him, for not only surviving the full brunt of the Legions forces on Argus, but for also being the wielder of Scaleshard and Scale of the Earth-Warder. It seemed that every ancient relic of history had been brought out to defend Azeroth.

"Well recently, we've been getting reports from SI:7, that the Banshee Queen and Trade Prince Gallywix have found a way to mine that damnable sword Sargeras thrust into the world. Now I don't need to tell you that this bit of information is bad enough, but we've also recently received reports that the Nightborne elves and the Highmountain Tauren have thrown their lot in with the Horde."

A few murmurs, both worried and angry resounded throughout the hall. Tethy looked to Byron worriedly and felt her heart ache a bit. Byron was livid. He looked, to anyone else, mildly upset, with only a furrowed brow to show. But, Tethy saw his eyes. They screamed and cried out for blood and fire at the mention of Sylvanas. She was worried, the Horde was gaining a serious edge. It would, eventually, lead to war with the Alliance, and she feared for Byron's safety, more than ever.

"There is good news however," Harold belted out, quieting the murmurs and hushed whispers. "We've been gaining allies of our own. The Lightforged Draenei for one and the Void Elves for another," he said before gesturing to the elven woman Tethy saw earlier. "This lady here is a new member, Sera Darque, a Void Elf herself. Treat her with as much respect as you would anyone else in the guild," Harold bellowed once more, giving Fizzknock a look before stepping down from the podium. "Keep up the good work, take jobs you can handle, and may the Light embrace you."

Everyone started to clear out after that, with Tethy and Byron making their way back home. Byron was quiet, though his eyes were still smoldering.

"Byron," Tethy took this moment to draw his attention, forcing him to stop and turn to her. "Are you alright?" she asked. He sighed, running a clawed hand over his head.

"Yes and no. I'm alright yes, but…this news, especially with the Nightborne has brought up some bad feelings. I feel betrayed. The company, the Alliance and I have given just as much to them, so why would they side with that undead bitch?"

Tethy stared at him sadly. She knew the answer of course. Lady Tyrande had made her opinion of the Nightborne very clear. She considered them just as reckless and cowardly as the first Highborn of Aszhara's court. That might have soured the relationship a bit. Tethy didn't have the heart to tell Byron that Lady Tyrande, one of the leaders that helped welcome him and his people into the Alliance was the cause of burning such a bridge.

She stepped closer to him, placing her much smaller hand into his palm before stepping close to him to press her head against his chest. "I'm worried about this dear heart."

He held her gently, looking down at her with a furrowed brow, all trace of his anger gone, replaced with worry. "I am too," he mumbled, before leading them back home.

The next day they would hear that Sylvanas had set fire to Darnassus. The White Gryphons immediately signed up for the Alliance. Tethy watched Byron and many other soldiers march toward the docks to board for the island of Kul Tiras. Estellyse and many others from The Den came out to bid the warriors farewells and well wishes, though most were hollow and filled with grief.

The Alliance was going to war.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Leave Kudos.


End file.
